


special delivery

by narrativefoiltrope



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, but hey i can't write smut so what else was i going to write for a throat prompt lmao, is this an incredibly self-indulgent fic? absolutely and i stand by it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27149587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narrativefoiltrope/pseuds/narrativefoiltrope
Summary: the detective misses briefings due to an illness, and adam does not care about it (or so he tells himself)
Relationships: Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Adam du Mortain
Kudos: 29





	special delivery

**Author's Note:**

> for 31 days of wayhaven tumblr challenge, prompt: throat

Another briefing ended without the detective present. This was the second meeting she missed in as many days. Not that Adam was counting--he had simply observed her absence as he might observe the absence of any other member of Unit Bravo. He did take notice, however, of how much quieter it was without the detective’s stream of…colourful commentary, since she directed much of it at him. 

“What is it that Pandora has again? And when can she come back? It’s so boring without her,” Farah bemoaned, throwing herself down on the couch. 

“Strep throat,” Nate said. “Agent Kingston said she should be back with us in a week.” 

Farah let out a dramatic sigh and Adam found himself almost silently agreeing with the sentiment—almost. As quickly as that uncomfortable line of thought arose, he quashed it. There was a very reasonable explanation for such a reaction from the unit leader. It was more of an inconvenience than anything, her absence; they would have to spend time catching her up upon her return. Perhaps he would brief her himself, so the team could continue its progress— _No._

A loud crack rang out and it was only then that Adam realised he had been gripping the back of a chair; a piece of wood splintered into his hand and he felt, rather than heard, a quiet sigh from Nate. He then made a rare tactical mistake in looking up: His eyes landed directly on Farah, who was grinning from ear to ear.

“If you miss her so much, Adam, maybe you should go make Pandora feel better,” she drawled as she waggled her brows suggestively. 

“Farah and Morgan, if I’m not mistaken, you are on research duty tonight. Let me show you where to find the volumes you’ll need,” Nate said as he shepherded the rest of the unit out of the room, shooting his oldest friend a sympathetic look as he closed the door behind them. Adam chose to ignore that sympathy; if he acknowledged its presence, he would have to consequently acknowledge the reason behind it. Instead, he prepared for his patrol. 

***

A strict rapping on her door startled Pandora awake from where she was napping on the couch. Pulling a blanket around her, she trudged towards the door. Yanking it open still half-asleep, she was met with the imposing figure of the commanding agent. 

“Adam?” _Shit._ She was suddenly acutely aware of the men’s sweatpants and ratty university t-shirt she was wearing. 

“Detective.” 

Taking a brief moment to compose herself—as much as a grown woman who was wearing a blanket as a cape could—she offered a shadow of her usual smirk and croaked, “Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Even in her dishevelled state, she managed to toss her long red hair over her shoulder in the way she frequently caught him watching. Pandora was nothing if not an opportunist, after all—especially when it came to provoking Adam du Mortain. 

Adam rolled his eyes. “I was under the impression that you would be unable to speak. Clearly if you are still able to make such remarks, I have no reason to worry.” 

Pandora’s smirk widened into a grin at that. Before she could address his comment, however, he roughly shoved a brown paper bag towards her. He cleared his throat before tersely stating, “You are unwell; I don’t wish to take up your time. I will see you next week, Detective. You’ll have a lot to familiarise yourself with when you return.” 

She groaned. “Greaaat, looking forward to it.” Adam gave her one last stern gaze, which she saw soften momentarily, before he nodded, turned on his heel, and left. _Ever the soldier, that one._

Closing the door and finally dropping the blanket around her shoulders, Pandora turned her attention to the brown bag. Inside, she found a quart of her favourite soup, still warm, from Haley’s and a note from the baker: _If I were you, I’d get sick a lot more often :)_


End file.
